


Eyeliner

by princehamlet



Category: Henry IV Part 1 - Shakespeare, Richard II - Fandom
Genre: Modern AU, Other, everything else is friendly and familial so its chill, there's nothing too shippy in this just kinda... mentions of poins/hal
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-21
Updated: 2016-05-21
Packaged: 2018-06-09 18:44:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6918763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/princehamlet/pseuds/princehamlet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hal find's himself endeared to the pleasant and lovely CEO Richard, and is truly amazed at the similarities they share, much to the dismay of Hal's father.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Living in one of the many rooms in the estate always gave Hal the distinct feeling that he had never really been a child. In fact, he became a teenager so quickly that he began to wonder when the transition started -- from adolescence to young-adulthood. His life was odd in the way that he couldn't fit the stages of his life into any particular mold: sitting at business meetings on his father's lap quite attentively as a small child like a young adult might, and lying on the floor, babbling (albeit, drunkenly) as a young adult like a child might. 

Nonetheless, Hal, the heir to his father's position in a fabulously wealthy company, was labeled as a disappointment early in his life before he could ever really do anything disappointing. His younger brothers had, too, sat on their father's lap during business meetings, listening attentively, and through their younger years had continued to do so, unlike Hal. 

"Henry." Hal heard his dad's cold voice ring through the halls, and he tried to imagine what it would be like if he didn't immediately run to his call. That being said, Hal hated the fact that his full name was "Henry Bolingbroke the Fifth", and tried to respond to 'Henry' or 'Harry' as little as possible. 

A minute later, he was leaning into his dad's office. "Hey, dad." He said, with weak enthusiasm; at this point, he didn't try as hard as he used to to hide his dread for the whole business-office-cubicle scene. But this time, he was actually surprised that his father didn't have a look of sternness on his face -- his lips weren't pursed in that way they were when Hal was about to be chid. Henry Bolingbroke the Fourth, Hal's father, looked anxious and almost irritated. 

"What did I do?" Was Hal's first reaction.

Henry IV allowed a nervous chuckle to break the ice of his expression, but it didn't last long. "Nothing, you didn't do anything. -- Did you do something?" 

"-- No, no, no." Hal denied quickly, almost interrupting. He crossed his arms awkwardly while trying not to sound too casual -- what his father didn't know wouldn't hurt him. (Hal tried not to think of he and Ned getting completely plastered a few nights ago; the memory flew away as quickly as it had come.)

"Henry," (Hal cringed at the use of his name two times in a row, wishing his father wouldn't use it.) "You know the CEO of our company?" Before Hal could interrupt (he had planned an "OUR company?"), Henry IV continued on, "Well, he's coming over this evening. I need to work. I need you to clean and plan dinner and... well, make this place look acceptable." 

Their place always looked acceptable. Hal crossed his arms with a more firm sternness than before, leaning against the doorframe. "We have people for that, dad. I was planning on going out with Ned, John, and the boys later tonight, and--"

Henry IV's nose crinkled in distaste. His voice lowered considerably, as if they were having this discussion in public. "Hal, you know I don't want you to hang out with those people."

Hal only smiled at the correct name being used, carefully deciding to brush off his father's reminder that he hated the crowd of drunkards and thieves that he spent his time with. 

Henry IV pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed tersely, as he did when he was considerably irritated. Hal knew that he was a thorn in his father's side, but personally, he had decided long ago that he wasn't going to let the man dictate his life completely. Hal wouldn't be misunderstood; he loved his father dearly, and part of him hurt inside to know the frustration that he caused him. He looked upon the graying man with utter fondness and respect. Sometimes, however, he couldn't help but wonder if his father looked at him the same way.

Then again, did he really deserve it? (The memory of getting drunk with Ned crept its way into his brain again. Had they kissed? They must have. He pushed it out again, feeling a stab at his heart, feeling his smile waver. He really must've been a disappointment to his dad.)

"I'll get it clean, dad." He said, hiding the guilty tone in his voice. He knocked absentmindedly on the doorframe as he sauntered out of the office room, not waiting to hear a mumbled 'thank you'.

As Hal picked up stray clothes and cautiously disposed of empty bottles of wine, he thought about his father's-- not his, his father's-- CEO that would be coming to dinner. He had gone on a brief business trip to Ireland with this man, and during that time, had barely laid eyes on him. He wasn't complaining; the trip was lovely, earned him extra money, all expenses paid -- first class on the plane, and everything. One time, though, he had seen him during one of the aforementioned meetings he attended on Bring-Your-Kid-To-Work-Day. 

Richard Plantagenet II was his name, and he was a tall and healthily thin man. He dressed superfluously, he noticed as a child: all creams and golds and whites. Richard was a fashion trendsetter among his peers, and you could tell by what he wore on a daily basis: a tasteful amount of rings adorning his fingers, expensive italian shoes and suits and ties. Richard's feminine appearance had interested Hal as a child, and, in fact, he had to be shushed quite audibly by his father after the meeting when Hal presumed that Richard had been a woman. Perhaps it was the wavy, brown hair that went to the man's mid-back, perhaps it was just the divine air that surrounded him -- Hal had always been interested, and the inability for them to cross paths in Ireland sometimes sparked a thought in the back of his head. 

And he was coming to his house. That evening.

Hal pressed his expensively-cased Iphone between his shoulder and his ear, Ned's phone ringing on the other line.

"Hey, babe." Ned Poins yawned after the 5th ring, sounding quite tired. The man was your typical rapscallion; all five o'clock shadow that never resulted in a beard, all disheveled inky hair and dark eyes that gleamed with mischief. 

Hal's heart fluttered. He was disgruntled with the feeling; Ned remembered the kiss, to his embarrassment. "Hey," he responded, trying not to sound like his ears had just turned red. "I can't make it tonight."

"Aw, why?" Hal could hear the faint shuffling of his bedsheets on the other end as Ned sat up in bed. 

"Richard freaking Plantagenet is coming to my house later." Hal said, not even trying to mask the excitement that bubbled into his voice. 

"The first, or second?" Ned asked, quite reasonably. 

"Ned, the first has been dead for like, a billion years." 

"How the hell am I supposed to know? My mom owns a dry cleaners, dude. Not all of us can be business heirs and whatever you are." He laughed into his drink, which Hal assumed was some kind of cheap alcohol. Hal laughed as well, echoing business heir to himself.

"Point is, I gotta look good for RPII tonight so I can earn business heir points. Don't let John drink too deep." Hal paused, reconsidering. "-- I take it back. Let him, and record videos. Kisses." He hung up just as he caught the sound of Ned laughing, and threw his phone away on the couch, his face burning. He liked Ned a lot, but refused to think of it and focused on the task at hand: cleaning. 

Hal glanced at his kitchen, imagining Richard sitting at the head of the table. He strode over to the refrigerator, deciding to figure out what kind of wine to serve first -- that was when he realized that he and Ned had drained the whole supply the other night. Damn you, Ned!

"Daaaaad....?" He called out uncertainly to his father down the hall, not bothering to hide the uncertainty in his voice.

Henry IV knew that tone. He left his solitude to join his son in the kitchen. "What did you do?"

"No wine left." Was all Hal said, smiling a very nervous smile to his father.

Henry Sr. was on it -- he immediately walked over to the closet, grabbing a tasteful dark overcoat to brace the cold with. "I'll go to the store." His voice was utterly resigned; it wasn't hard for him to figure out what his son had done with all the drinks. Hal knew he was in for it later. He would've been in for it then, if they weren't so tight on time. 

Hal found himself alone. After 30 minutes of halfhearted cleaning passed and his father hadn't come home, he heard the doorbell ring. He laughed to himself as he raced to the door, figuring his father had forgotten his house key. 

But when he opened the door, aforementioned Richard freaking Plantagenet (the second, of course), was standing in the doorway, brown eyes sparkling with pleasure. Hal looked down at himself, in a v-neck long-sleeve and blue boxers, and then at Richard, who was wearing an awfully stylish gold sweater and white dress pants, his long hair pulled back in a ponytail. 

Hal could have screamed, but before he could properly begin his fit of appropriate shrieking, Richard said in a voice that sounded like caramel, "My apologies, I quite enjoy being fashionably early." Hal only gestured to the dining room, at a loss for words.


	2. Chapter 2

15 minutes, a pair of pants, and one of his father's crisp shirts buttoned up over his chest later, Hal rejoined Richard Plantagenet II at the dining table, Hal at one end, Richard at the other.

Hal would be lying if he said Richard wasn't just as beautiful as he remembered, if not lovelier. He had a sort of professional style about him, and yet managed a friendly and casual air at the same time: a sort of hot ice, if you will -- almost completely contradictory. 

"So," Richard said at the moment Hal sat down, and Hal prepared himself to hastily jump to his feet again to fetch some coffee or water or-- "Where is dear old Harry?"

 _Dear old Harry?_ "My father, you mean." Hal said, his brow creasing. 

"Why, yes."

"He went out to get some wine." Hal said. He tried to mimic Richard's straight back and relaxed shoulders, but failed and retreated back to his usual slouch in humiliation. Richard never broke eye contact; he picked up on everything Hal did, and Hal could feel his ears burning once more as Richard chuckled at the other's messy state. 

"There's no need to be nervous, you know." He said easily, leaning back in his seat with his arms perched on either side -- a natural king in his throne. "I've known you ever since you were a child."

"Right." Hal chuckled, quite nervously despite the others assurance. "I-- I went on that business trip with you, not too long ago." Do you remember?, he wanted to add, but he held his tongue -- he felt like he was trying way too hard to earn his approval as it was.

"Yes. I know." Richard's smile was white, brilliant, and naturally captivating. The man wasn't even trying, and yet he somehow caught Hal's attention the moment he walked in the door and held it. Hal didn't even notice that his phone was ringing. 

Panic! At The Disco's "Nine In The Afternoon" (a ringtone set by Ned, since they were all lovingly dubbed 'midnight riders' by John) sang blissfully from it's vacant spot on the couch. Richard only pointed to it, eyebrows raised and gaze attentively fixed on Hal, as if he had never seen a phone before.

"Do you mind?" Hal asked, quite embarrassed. If he was nervous before, he was filled with terror and humiliation now. He trotted to the couch, feeling Richard's gaze on him, and clicked 'answer'.

"Hal, baby." Ned said, too loudly. Hal's face turned beet red, and he glanced at Richard, who was flashing that amused smile again. Richard promptly turned his head away from him, as if pretending he wasn't listening. Hal appreciated the gesture.  
"Ned, god, what? I'm in the middle of something important here!" He snapped as he turned down the volume to his phone, horrified. He felt bad when he used Ned like a punching bag like that, but sometimes it just couldn't be helped. Bad place, bad time. Very bad place, very bad time, very important Plantagenet at his dinner table.

Ned was silent for a moment, murmuring to (presumably) Bardolph or Peto for a moment. He could hear laughter, clinks, a distant Hostess shouting -- they were at Eastcheap. Hal slid a hand down his face. "Ned, sober up." He said sharply, and hung up. "I'm so sorry -- a-- about him. About that." He said quickly to Richard, and sat down next to him -- closer, now. He didn't like being so far away, so impersonal. 

"Don't worry, it's happened to the best of us." Richard chuckled. "May I use your bathroom?"

 _I've lost him!_ Hal screamed in his head, and nodded somberly. "Yeah, it's next to my dad's office -- that is, down the hall." Moments later, Hal was sitting alone at the table, just as he had been twenty minutes ago when his whole world wasn't blowing up. (Call him a drama queen -- he'd agree with you.) Shortly after, Richard emerged again, still looking quite well-put together -- but this time, he held a small, black pencil between his thumb and index finger. 

If Hal was horrified before, he was on another plane now. 

"Is this eyeliner?"

"Yes," Hal blurted it out before he could think of a sensible lie. He wondered if his face had surpassed the shade of red that his hair was. Maybe he was a tomato, at this point? The thought of it only made him redder as he tried to explain. "Me-- and -- my friends, we perform plays sometimes."

"Oh?" Was all Richard said. _RUTHLESS._

"Like, _Rocky Horror._ " Hal offered a broken smile. "But-- I don't really like it, I mean, they kind of -- forced me to get that stuff." Hal's stammering only proved the fact that he was lying, and he hung his head. "My friends... are just... stupid."  
Richard laughed quite audibly, and it surprised Hal. Richard took his place next to Hal at the table, saying, "This is 30$ eyeliner from Sephora. You don't have to lie to me." 

Hal just let his forehead hit the table, covering his red-hot face with his hands. 

"I've definitely been there." Richard said, quite amused, as he flipped open a small mirror that he had had hidden away in his breast pocket. As he spoke, he began to carefully apply the black line to the top of his eyelid. "I don't blame you for lying about liking makeup. Your father is quite the stick in the mud." Hal lifted his gaze, feeling less embarrassed, and watched Richard finish up the other eyelid. "But did you really think that I'd have the same reaction?" 

Hal pondered this as he looked at Richard's perfect lines in awe. After a second, Richard leaned forward, and Hal -- as if on cue -- closed his eyes so that he could do the same for him. "My friends really are idiots," Hal murmured after a little while, feeling quite truthful. Richard said nothing, and so they paused as he finished. "I'm pretty sure my dad would crucify me if he saw us sitting like this."

"No, he wouldn't." Richard said, smiling in a pleased fashion as he leaned back to admire his work. 

Hal grinned at him, retrieving his phone so as to look at in his mirror. "Wow. You're quite the artist." He marveled, unable to steal his gaze away from how much the makeup emphasized the brownness of his eyes. Hal looked at the other, and they shared a smile -- like something clicked between the both of them, something friendly and warm.

And then the doorbell rang.


	3. Chapter 3

Richard was quite surprised to see Hal's gentle confidence seemingly dissolve into thin air. "Damn it--! I have to -- get this off, can you --?" He threw the wealthy man an apologetic look, one that begged understanding. And oh, did Richard understand. While Hal scurried off to the bathroom to begrudgingly wipe Richard's aforementioned 'art' off his eyelids, Richard casually strolled down the grand stairs of Henry's home, soaking in the details of the man's humble mansion and making a beeline for the door. 

Richard opened the grand entrance as if he owned the place. Shock was written all over Henry's face as his brain processed the other's presence.

"Harry!" Richard exclaimed, hugging the winter-coated, wine-carrying man before him (and brushing aside the fact that his back immediately went rigid). Just to bother him, he planted a big kiss on his cheek, along with a lofty 'MWAH!' noise. "Your home is lovely -- and your son! Oh, he's brilliant. Lovely. Come in, come in."

"Mr. Plantagenet, I should be the one welcoming you into my home." Everything about Henry's voice was written with the exact lack of comfort he was feeling. A new layer of wariness come into his tone upon inspection of the other's previous words, "-- and you met Henry? Good, good, uh... was he... presentable?"

Richard's eyes fell to the floor. A glass beer bottle was peeking out from underneath a comfortable looking armchair -- one Hal had neglected to find. With complete grace, Richard sat in it, pushing the bottle quite discreetly out of sight. " _Very_ presentable. Shall we drink, and talk?" He asked innocently, pointing to the other's wine, which was masked by a convenience store plastic bag. 

Meanwhile, Hal was feeling awful in the bathroom. It was quite easy, these days, to set him off into a string of thoughtful regrets -- shouldn't have kissed Ned, shouldn't have yelled at Ned, shouldn't use Ned as a verbal punching bag, probably shouldn't have let Richard lead him further down the path of disappointing his father. Sometimes, Hal could swear his life was made up of 'shouldn't have's. Goodness. As they say, there is no rest for the wicked.   
But was he really so bad? Sure, he drank a lot. Sure, he minorly dabbled in things that business heirs definitely shouldn't do -- sleeping around, drag, drugs -- Hal wasn't proud. But was he really so -- okay. Yeah. He _was_ so bad. The exhausted boy splashed his face with water, examining his tired visage in the mirror as water dripped off his distinct nose. 

\-- At least he would look awesome when he gave it all up, _right_? He stowed away the eyeliner, as if it was symbolic of some kind of big shift in his life, and made his way outside. This brief existential revelation took about 6 minutes, maximum. 

Meanwhile, part 2-- Richard and Henry sipped gingerly at the bitter, cheap wine and sat in silence. That is, until, Richard broke it.

"Hal is a very bright boy." He remarked.  
"Indeed." Henry replied stiffly. Sip. "What did you two talk about, while I was gone?"  
Richard was somewhat put off by the other's demeanor, and the tone he spoke in -- like he had no faith in Hal whatsoever. Richard, irritation becoming his voice like a snake in it's scaly skin, said in a snappy change of subject, "It may be none of my business -- after all, you two are family, and I am not -- but why is it that you treat your son so venomously?"

Henry was clearly struck by this comment. "-- sir, you must understand. Hal is a very irresponsible teenager."  
"As teenagers are," Richard says sternly. Thinking over his words, he takes a brief sip of wine before a thought dawns on him. "But Hal -- what we talked about was brief yet personal. The second I pressed him, he denied things quickly with shame, trying to keep my respect."  
Henry groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose.  
"-- He is only ashamed because of you." Richard insisted, which was a statement that again, shocked old Bolingbroke like lightning. "We share very similar interests, he and I." Richard finished his wine. "I wouldn't mind seeking his company further." In a playful tone, he added. "I'm tired of speaking of business with you, anyways."

"We've seldom talked business at all." Henry pointed out. "Instead, you choose to criticize my methods of parenting."  
"I only criticize because I know I'm right. -- Here comes the boy, now."

When he came out, Richard was sitting there -- still magnificently clad, still proudly bearing the makeup -- with his legs crossed and a glass of wine in his hand. Immediately Hal's gaze snaked its way to the wine bottle on the table. _Convenience store brand, dad, really? You were gone for 45 minutes and you couldn't stop by someplace nicer, or something?_ But there would be more times for cursing his dad later. Putting on his best, pearly-white smile, he prepared to enter himself into a completely bland, businesslike conversation, answering questions he didn't really know the answers to by dancing around them. Verbal dancing was a skill he'd become a master in, what with his background.

But all he was greeted with was Richard's sly smile and Henry's glance of irritation. For the third time in the evening, he desired to ask: _what did I do this time?_


End file.
